


From Eden

by LadyGraceGrey



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Dont blame me it was the plot bunnies!, F/M, Muses demand music, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6055117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGraceGrey/pseuds/LadyGraceGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something so... Familiar about her. Darn it hurt, but it helped too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Eden

**Author's Note:**

> This Fic is timed to be able to be read along with the music video for the song. My plot bunnies ordered me to do it. 
> 
> https://youtu.be/cI0wUoCLnLk

She was bright. Not smart, more like light. It made that dingy red tinted room feel like daylight. 

I was stuck, mid argument and I puffed out my chest like the dam.. Darn world was riding on my prominence in the mercenary world. As if that meant anything at all. 

But she was perched there on that faded chair and drinking from a bottle like it was a fancy glass from those old world books. And that cig that dangled from her fingers somehow didn't fit and yet she made it work. 

She made it all work. 

Tumblers clicking into place like she had simply smiled and asked them nicely to just open up. It wasn't so impressive, it looked like an easy enough lock. I could have got that door open if I wanted. But the way she beamed at me, my God, now that was impressive. So I told her to show me that trick. I meant her smile but she giggled and said, “Sure thing sweetie.” And if I wasn't lost then and there it was the fact that the irradiated blood on her face didn't bug her at all. 

“Babe, there’s something tragic about you. Something so magic about you. Don't you agree?” 

She was innocent. Feral almost, more than most of those f… stupid half turned ghouls we flayed through were. But innocent. 

She never did shake that first impression with me. Bright blue vault suit and too darn young to be put on this crazy world. It made more sense much later. But back then when I told her my price and she pulled out an old tin can with barely enough caps to tink against the sides… she had smiled like it was some poor joke on her part and poured nearly all of that pathetic little can’s contents out. Weighing it in her hands and offering it to me with a darn open palm and the biggest blue eyes I had ever seen. She asked if I would reconsider. Even as she had the exact amount and none to spare held out to me. 

I closed my hand over hers and said “200.” And she looked so good with that pleased smile… she won something, you could almost hear one of those level up dings from those old games we used to find on older terminals. I couldn't wait to see what else she would win. I didn't know it would be me. 

“No tired sighs. No rolling eyes. No irony..”

That faded gold band wasn't faded enough you know. It glinted as we ran for our lives with muties trailing us. 

“No who cares, no vacant stares..”

Every crib we ever past she either wouldn't look at it… or trail a hand over the edge when she thought I wasn't looking.

“No time for me.”

It broke my heart. It made me remember. 

“Honey, you're familiar. Like my mirror years ago.”

But she would turn on her booted heel, tearing the duct tape that held it together and launch a molotov cocktail at the blurs of green and laugh. I would forget again.

“Idealism sits in prison, Chivalry fell on its sword.”

And back again to a settlement and her hands were open and her pockets were empty. And I watched. I always just… watched. 

“Innocence died screaming. Honey ask me, I should know.”

When the Raiders came and she couldn't shoot them. She just watched… just like me. But their gaunt faces turned angry and harsh at her made something like pity flash over her face and I was quick to shoot them down for her. Always for her.

“I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door.” 

Like I was some darn hero that didn't give a fluffy duck about her weaknesses. The ones that almost got us killed. But I would have done the same. I did do the same..

“Babe, there’s something wretched about this. Something so precious about this..” 

But there were other times too. Us hiding in a cellar. Caught in a Rad Storm, both of us drunk off our as… bottoms. Old mags and scraps of anything we could find spread over some stained mattress as we took turns reading them in accents. Well… I did. She mostly laughed and tried… well failed, to do any accent but her own. I didn't care, her voice was fine and her laughter was infectious. That was enough. When she finally passed out, I spent more time than I should have combing through her fading red tinged hair with dirty fingers. Not that her hair was better, but we didn't care. We didn't care about the heavy booted clomps above us either. I didn't. 

“Babe there’s something broken about this… but I might be hoping about this.” 

And I had to remind myself she was my boss. Constantly chanting that title in my head as she turned that brilliant smile on anyone and everyone. She had all her teeth, and they were crooked in the front. She had all the time in the world for any sap with a tale to tell and axe to grind. And she listened. 

Even to mine. 

That was when it hit me. She was just like me. Take me back a year past, and I was looking at me. Lost and grieving and still trying to save anything I could. But she was still there and I had moved just a bit ahead. So when she went off and then came back with that detective and burned down her old house, I got it. I got it all. Her screaming and throwing things, the blackout drunk nights… the slow dancing with Valentine under the big tree in that settlement. I got it. But I didn't get her. 

I didn't get her. Not yet. But her innocence will give way in time, and as much as I hate to ever see it… I will be around when the damn world comes crashing down. That's what I always said. 

So I toy with that soldier in my pocket. And I think to myself that maybe… just maybe there would be time tomorrow. 

That's when they bring her back to us, dead and cold. Just a body to bury. 

And I see her instead. Not me now, but her. She was gone and I was here and she never would know… 

All Hell has no fury like a woman scorned they say. They took her husband and her child, and she gave them hell. That was what the settlers say. But really, how long can the stories go without anything to back them up with? So when they stop telling stories and the caps run dry… I should move on. 

And I can't. I didn't get her. And I can't move on. There are a lot of broken hearts that drink themselves stupid thanks to her. I am one of many and I can't be mad at her for that. 

A hand on his shoulder jolts him only a little. Too used to the patronising pats and condolences that all her “Friends” get from every settler and trader in almost every town. Not that he would know… he hadn't left Sanctuary. 

“Mac…”

And his drunken self pulls right around on that stool to stare at her and try to breathe. She’s coated in blood, barely standing. But she’s smiles. God damn she’s smiling and he can't move! 

“M-Miss me much?” 

“... Fucking hell yes!” 

And he is on her, lips crushing to hers and holding her like she’ll disappear again. And she holds him back, kisses him back….

He will always kick himself for never seeing that band glint just too much on that synths finger. It almost feels like another person to me now. But she tells me that it is only fair… since it wasn't her that got buried six feet down. 

But it was her. We both know it. She came back changed, but so was I. 

We both remember things differently now and then. But while Duncan is safe, and she is smiling, I don't even care if it’s all a dream. As long as I don't wake up. Because so long as I am dreaming, I get her.


End file.
